Unexpected departure: From jail to exile

It was about 4 in the afternoon on July 8 when the official assigned to me at Toledo Prison, where I'd been locked up for nearly five years, came running to get me. He was in such a hurry that that he tripped and almost fell to the ground. "Saludes, we're going upstairs," he said, breathless and sweating. He didn't give me any more details, but I soon found out that he was taking me up to the director's office where State Security was waiting for me. "They've come to talk to me," I told myself. And they had.

At the chief's desk sat an agent of the political police. I didn't recognize his face, but he had the same harshness and arrogance as all members of that repressive body. As soon as I entered the office, the agent signaled me silently to pick up the telephone receiver lying unhooked on the desk.

With countless
questions racing through my head, mostly related to my family, I picked up the phone.

Without delay, a man's
voice came on the line. He identified himself as Orlando Márquez, official
spokesman for the Archbishopric of Havana and secretary to the cardinal.
Márquez hastily told me that Monsignor Ortega wanted to speak with me.

After formal greetings,
Monsignor Jaime Ortega Alamino, archbishop of Havana, got straight to the
point, disclosing the results of negotiations with Cuba's leader, Raul Castro, that
he and Spanish Foreign Minister Miguel Angel Moratinos had mediated.

Following his summary,
Ortega Alamino said that he had included my name among the first five prisoners
that would "shortly travel to Spain
with their family members." The cardinal asked if I would accept this
proposal.

"Monsignor, I greatly
appreciate your concern," I told him. "But you will understand that I can't
give you an answer now. First, I have to speak with my family, principally with
my wife. They also have the right to make a decision." This was my answer.

The cardinal assured
me that he would immediately contact my wife and that he would make
arrangements "with the authorities" for a family visit.

Before saying goodbye,
I thanked the cardinal for his efforts in support of 75 prisoners of conscience
and of the Damas
de Blanco, or Ladies in White. I also extended my thanks to Pope John Paul
II, who always advocated for our freedom and was always concerned about the
Cuban people. The prelate thanked me for my words and bid me goodbye, giving me
God's blessing.

Our conversation had
lasted 20 minutes. I was obliged to raise my voice so that the archbishop could
hear me. "There's a problem with the line," the security agent in the chief's
seat told me sarcastically while jotting down each of my words. To clear up any
uncertainties, he asked me pointblank if I wanted to travel to Spain or not.
My answer was categorical: "No," I said. "You know all too well that it has
never been my intention to abandon Cuba." Following a brief exchange, the agent
assured me that I would be granted a family visit as soon as possible.

The next day, at 3 in
the afternoon, I received a visit from my wife and my eldest son. We were given
barely 30 minutes to decide our fates. I explained to my family the
difficulties of being deported, which are made worse by arriving to a new
destination in a state of complete neglect and disorientation. I asked them to carefully
analyze their decision before communicating it to me. In the end, both opted
for leaving.

When the visit was
over, without wasting any time, five state security agents met with me in the
same room. They assured me that I could bring a "reasonable number" of family
members to Spain.
"They will be able to come back when they wish, but not you," they told me when
I asked if I would be able to return to Cuba whenever I wanted. "You leave
for Spain
in less than a week," they announced.

At that point, time
sped up. There was scarcely enough time to finalize and coordinate everything.
The day after my family's visit, two soldiers arrived at my bedside to tell me
to gather all of my belongings. "Saludes, get everything because you're leaving.
State Security is coming to get you," they told me. They almost surprised me in
the act of writing in the secret diary that I'd kept, cautiously, since my first
day in prison, and in which I was able to record the impressions that now fill
this page. Minutes before their arrival, I had saved my final notes in the
usual hiding place.

The other prisoners
congratulated me and kept telling me how happy they were to see me get out.
Everyone wanted to send me off with a goodbye, the goodbye we had always longed
for next to a seemingly permanent question mark.

(Translated by Karen Phillips)

This entry is part of an ongoing series of first-person
stories by Cuban journalists who were imprisoned in a massive roundup of
dissidents that has become known as the Black Spring
of 2003. All of the reporters and editors were convicted in one-day trials,
accused of acting against the "integrity and sovereignty of the
state" or of collaborating with foreign media for the purpose of
"destabilizing the country." Seventeen of them were recently released
and exiled to Spain as part of a deal between the Catholic Church and the Cuban
government; however, three arrested in 2003 still
remain behind bars.

Omar Rodríguez Saludes, director of the Havana-based independent news agency Nueva Prensa Cubana, was arrested in March 2003 and summarily sentenced in April to 27 years in jail. He now lives in Spain.

Share

As US-Cuba relations thaw, what's next for the island's independent press?

March 16, 2016 3:57 PM ET

"Our hope is that President Obama will meet journalists working for the alternative media, not just to cover his visit, but to start a dialogue," said Elaine Díaz Rodríguez, director of Periodismo de Barrio (Neighborhood Journalism) a website focusing on climate change and the impact of natural disasters on...

In Cuba, case for harassing press has collapsed

December 22, 2014 12:06 PM ET

Throughout the years, the Cuban government has justified the imprisonment of independent journalists on charges that they were acting against the State's sovereignty at the behest of the United States. During the so-called Black Spring in March 2003, when the government then led by President Fidel Castro launched a...

Cuban blogger Yoani Sánchez launches independent news site

May 22, 2014 3:55 PM ET

Late last October, as I accompanied Cuban blogger Yoani Sánchez in a cab ride from LaGuardia Airport to her hotel in Manhattan, we talked nonstop about what had changed in Cuba during 2013 and about her plans for 2014. Two things she told me then were particularly striking. ...